


He Remembered You

by Jaspersfic



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Creepy Brock Rumlow, Kidnapping, M/M, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:48:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8980342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaspersfic/pseuds/Jaspersfic
Summary: Rumlow captures Steve, and takes him to where he used to abuse Bucky to tell him what happened and try to destroy their relationship.





	

Steve’s head spun hard. The room around him seemed dark. He opened his eyes slowly, and beads of light appeared. They floated through the air, swirling and diving before they disappeared once more. He’d been hit perhaps, or someone had put drugs into his system. His head ached, but cautiously he opened his eyes once more. He had to know what was going on.

Now the patch of light grew slowly, widening, and he started to make out the shapes of the room. He was standing. He was standing, with his hands chained up above his head. He couldn’t see clearly, but there was a figure in there with him. He couldn’t recognise them, just a dark shape, but slowly they approached to him, lifting his head up with a touch to his jaw.

The face looking at his own was scarred, twisted with burns. But the eyes, the eyes he knew. The eyes proved to him who he faced. Rumlow. The traitor from Hydra who had attacked him in the elevator. Who had hurt him, had left Bucky so frightened, unsure who he was. The lips twisted slightly, and he recognised a smile. That was Brock. The man who had saved his life, who had split a beer with him of an evening, and after a moment the smile was gone. He was Rumlow, the monster that Bucky said had shocked him with an electric baton, who had beaten Bucky and whose name Bucky sometimes screamed out as he woke. Brock was gone, Brock was dead. Brock had died …at some point in the past, that Steve couldn’t even place. Maybe Brock had never lived. He couldn’t be sure. Rumlow had him now.

The man sneered at him.   
“He remembered you. You know that? Your pal, your buddy, your Bucky. Hear you’re playing at happy families now.” Rumlow’s voice was hoarse, angry, fighting its way out through scars.

“Something like that.” Steve muttered, straining as hard as he could against the cuffs. Keeping the man talking would help. He knew the others would be looking for him. Bucky would be looking for him. That was what it meant to be a team, to be partners. You were never alone, not really. They would always come for you. Rumlow’s grip on his throat made him focus once more.

“You were lovers, weren’t you? Might explain why he liked being fucked so bad.” Rumlow gloated, and Steve frowned, feeling sick. He shook his head. Bucky had said he had been beaten, that he had been tortured, but he had never mentioned that. They had picked up where they had left off, gentle kisses, touches, and long slow love-making in the night. Bucky had never mentioned Hydra doing anything that might interfere with that. The two of them had only ever been with each other. 

Steve continued to tug against the cuffs, and Rumlow reached into his pocket, pulling out a black-handled knife. He ran the blade along Steve’s arm, cutting through the leather of his uniform. Rumlow chuckled, dark and loud.  
“He hadn’t told you, had he?” Rumlow sneered. “What, you think we would have had something that beautiful around the place and never had any fun with him?”

Steve snarled. Rumlow just laughed. His eyes were wide, and Steve could tell the man was unhinged. It reminded him of his final showdown with the Red Skull. A madman who thought he could control the world, while he held the elements of his own destruction. The knife continued its path, slowly cutting off his uniform, leaving red lines of blood across his skin. Steve tried to squirm away, and the knife stabbed into his skin, twisting for a moment and then pulling out.

“You think I just happen to have some cuffs strong enough to hold you lying around? I’ve got it because of him. This used to be our little play room.” Rumlow turned away, opening a cupboard, and swinging open the door. It revealed rows of implements, some of which Steve could recognise and far more that he couldn’t. There were whips and knives, but also grotesque parodies of hands and other body parts, items he recognised from websites Clint had shown him when he was aiming to shock. Some, he could guess the use of, but he didn’t want to think about that. Rumlow smirked, then returned to removing Steve’s clothing, slowly cutting through the fabric until Steve was hanging there naked.

He reached out and squeezed Steve’s cock, pulling on it slightly, looking down at it in disgust.  
“Some days he’d remember you. He’d call out, that was normally a sign that he needed a wipe, so we’d take him down to the chair. But we’re only human, right?” Rumlow’s hand tightened its grip until Steve gasped. “So we used to play a game. One of the best was to tell him that we had you prisoner. That you were chained up in the next room, sobbing in pain, screaming out for him. Then he’d be so eager to cooperate. Fuck himself on our cocks, suck our dicks without complaint, lick our boots and beg for more. Then, after a couple of days, we’d tell him you were already dead. If we were feeling generous he’d get the chair after that.”

Steve gasped for air, feeling himself begin to harden in Rumlow’s grasp. He spat into his face, and Rumlow just reached up, brushing a burned finger over his face, then smearing the liquid across Steve’s cheek. 

“He’d be grateful to forget… but he did remember you, again and again. He seemed to remember you most if we were rough. Maybe getting fucked until he was screaming, until there was blood everywhere, reminded him of you.”

Steve retched, thinking for a moment of their first night together, when he had brought Bucky back from Hydra for the first time. There had been a hint of blood on the sheets. He’d kissed Bucky, apologised, and Bucky had laughed. But he’d made Bucky bleed. For a moment, he felt almost as bad as these men. He hadn’t been there for Bucky when he needed him.

“Tell me, Rogers. You see those little scars around his shoulder. On the ruined flesh? Those were from one fun night. Everyone who used him carved one. There were what… 26? 27? Of them by the time that we were finished, and scars on the shoulder, they stay…”

Steve had rubbed his fingers over those scars the previous night, after they had slept together. He shivered. Bucky had never told him a word about that, never asked him not to touch them.

“He called out for you. Think he wanted you to save him. Or maybe he just wanted you to share his pain.” The hand around Steve’s cock was stroking faster and faster, and Steve could feel a warmth starting to pool in his stomach. He didn’t want this. He didn’t, but then Bucky hadn’t wanted it either, and that hadn’t been enough. It hadn’t been possible for Bucky to stop it. He didn’t get to stop it either.

“And it helped Pierce, when they met. He took a liking to Pierce, because he reminded him of you. He thought of you, and he obeyed him. Pretty stupid, wasn’t he? Willing to do anything he could to help Pierce. To help Hydra. He was happy to play out whatever Pierce wanted, happy to kill for a word of praise from him.”

The talking didn’t help. Steve wasn’t sure why he had ever thought that it would have. Steve’s eyes focused on the objects in the cupboard. Tried to imagine them. Tried to remember, so that when he got back, he could help Bucky. Could support him as he never had before. Rumlow was carrying on, and Steve couldn’t stop him. He knew he was going to climax, so he tried to change the conversation, to snatch back some small bit of dignity.

“The Avengers are coming.”  
“I know they are.” Rumlow said with another burst of laughter. “I know they are going to, and they’ll find you like this. They’ll find how much you enjoyed what happened to Bucky…”   
“They’ll kill you.”  
“I’m counting on it.” Rumlow snorted. “Because I don’t want to live like this, not now, not after everything. But I won. Even when they kill me. Because you know what happened to him now. You know he was our little slut, that he screamed for us. Every time you touch him, you’ll know you’re only going where dozens, maybe hundreds, of men have been before. And you’ll know you liked the idea.”

He moved his hand faster still, and Steve gasped, climax overwhelming him. He shuddered as Rumlow stroked him through his climax, before he was let go. There was a noise in the corridor beyond, and the door flung open as Brock dipped his hand into his pocket.

Bucky stood in the doorway, with Tony to one side and Natasha on the other. A look of terror passed over Bucky’s face as he saw the room, the open cupboard, his eyes focussing on the toys and then the mess on Steve’s stomach.

Rumlow was laughing as he turned towards them. He was holding a gun.


End file.
